


and if we don't meet again

by SmallishWormMasterOfTheUniverse



Series: what happens after we don't die [1]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: BEST END SAD END, Bittersweet, M/M, Major character is already dead, Mourning, Or maybe just bitter, could be canon-compliant, in my notes as, it's martin with a tape recorder in front of jon's empty grave, nobody's happy but me, post s5, post-post apocalypse, so that's the real summary, transcript fic, we will see
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:01:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27601796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmallishWormMasterOfTheUniverse/pseuds/SmallishWormMasterOfTheUniverse
Summary: "It sort of makes me feel like you can hear me. Just like you always could, you know?"After everything is over, Martin goes to visit Jon.
Relationships: Jonathan Sims/Martin Blackwood, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Series: what happens after we don't die [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2199606
Comments: 7
Kudos: 52





	and if we don't meet again

[SOFT SOUND OF FOOTSTEPS ON GRASS, A BREEZE BLOWING. THERE’S A BIT OF SHUFFLING, SOMETHING BUMPING AGAINST THE TAPE RECORDER, AND THEN A MUFFLED THUMP AS SOMEONE SITS ON THE GROUND.] 

**MARTIN**

Sorry I’m late. If you could have seen the tube today _(he laughs)_ now _that’s_ a domain of the Buried. Ugh. I think I got elbowed like, six different times. Ooh, and _this_ place has to be the Spiral, all the graves getting up and walking around at night, swear to god. But! Here I am. 

[A SHORT PAUSE.] 

**MARTIN**

And here you are. 

[ANOTHER PAUSE.] 

**MARTIN**

I guess it’s stupid to ask you how you’ve been, so, so I’ll just tell you how I’m doing. I’m doing well! I’m doing really well, actually, not just, you know, “survived an apocalypse” well. Um, I finally got that new flat I was telling you about last week. Not that there was anything wrong with the old one, just, you know, memories. And I bought nice furniture and stuff. I don’t know when you had time to name me your next of kin— I mean seriously, Jon, we started dating _during the apocalypse._ We never— What, were you just sitting around between kidnappings thinking, ‘Oh, that annoying assistant of mine keeps having anxiety attacks over Excel spreadsheets, maybe this will help him out.’ Did you _really_ think you were going to— Well. I guess you were right. _(He sighs)_ Thank you, anyway. It’s, uh, it’s been really nice to just, to have money around. It’s helped with looking for a job. Or, ha, with _not_ looking for a job. I mean, I don’t _think_ I’m going to get ensnared in a web of lies and treachery working at a Waterstones? But… I’m not ready quite yet. 

[PAUSE, SOUND OF WIND IN GRASS.] 

**MARTIN**

My therapist says that’s normal, to not be ready. Apparently a lot of the things I do are normal. Normal for someone with a lot of really weird trauma, I mean. I can’t actually tell him about much of it? Not the specifics, anyway. I had a bad job, a bad _(he snorts)_ business trip. That’s what I told him it was, but then sometimes I’ll slip up and he’ll be like, ‘What do you _mean_ you were covered in ants? You told me you worked for a _library!’_

[HE LAUGHS, THEN SIGHS.]

**MARTIN**

We’ve talked about some stuff that happened before the Institute too. Apparently I have a lot of— Apparently a lot of the things that happened to me then were also very bad. I just didn’t realize, I guess? It’s…strange, to have someone feel bad for you about something you never thought to feel bad about. We talk about my mother a lot. But you don’t want to hear about that. 

Or maybe you do. I don’t know. 

There’s better things to talk about anyway. Like, I went to see Georgie and Melanie yesterday. I know I told you we don’t really talk, but it’s nice sometimes to just…be around people who get it. And I got a sneak preview of the latest episode of _(he laughs)_ of, uh, “Fuck This Ghost.” They are, quote, “taking a new perspective in light of recent circumstances.” It’s quite good, actually, if you like listening to people get really, really angry at ghosts and supernatural things. I do. _(With an audible smile)_ Cathartic. And Melanie and Georgie are, they’re doing well, I think. Best as they can under the circumstances. Melanie said she might come here with me next week, actually. To, um, to “rub it in Sims’s face that I’m dating his ex.” I _think_ she was joking? She must have been joking, you can’t say that in a cemetery. Or, or you shouldn’t. I’m glad she’s coming, though. It gets a little spooky sometimes, coming here on my own. No offense. 

[HE PAUSES.]

**MARTIN**

Georgie…Georgie doesn’t want to come with, yet. I mean, she _wants_ to but… But it’s hard. But, oh, she _did—_

[A CRACKLING SOUND, LIKE CRINKLING CELLOPHANE.]

**MARTIN**

Give me these to give to you. They’re, uh, they’re black roses? I don’t know how they grow them like that, they must dye them or something. Right? _(He laughs)_ You would know, I bet. Anyway— 

[ANOTHER CRACKLING SOUND.]

**MARTIN**

Here you are. Georgie said you’d “get it,” but I don’t know what that means. It’s weird, you know, you have this whole past and I never got to— 

[A PAUSE.]

**MARTIN**

No. No, no, anything but that. What else. Who else. Oh, shit, the cat, what’s the cat’s name. Lieu— Lieutenant? Lieutenant Marmalade? God, I’m sorry, that’s not it. Well, his Royal Orange-ness is getting along just fine, anyway. Sleeps a lot, but I think that’s normal for cats. 

Who else? Oh! Basira. Sorry, Basira, I should’ve thought of you before the cat. But I haven’t seen her since the, since your funeral, actually. It was hard to tell how she was doing, she was just…really quiet. I mean we all were, but she sort of hung back. She did give me this tape recorder, though. Straight from your desk at the Institute, she said. Or, ha, where your desk _was._ I don’t know how she knew it would help. I should call her. _(A pause, then, with determination)_ I _will_ call her. Nobody’s falling into the Lonely on my watch. 

[ANOTHER PAUSE, LONGER THIS TIME. SOFT TAPPING SOUNDS, LIKE SOMEONE DRUMMING THEIR FINGERS ON PLASTIC.]

**MARTIN**

I should tell you about the tape recorder. I do— I feel a bit bad carrying one around, especially after what they turned out to be. Ugh. _(He makes a shivery sound)_ But it’s just— I need an anchor, you know? _(He laughs)_ Of course you know. I need an anchor and this— _(a slight rush of air, Martin is gesturing with his hands)_ This isn’t anything. It’s a rib in a coffin, it’s not _you._ The tape recorder, though… I mean, I’m not going to save this or anything. I’m not going to re-listen to myself talking to you. God, can you imagine? I record over the same bit of tape every time, I’m not _archiving_ anything but it’s like— It sort of makes me feel like you can hear me. Just like you always could, you know? The, ha, the good old days when I’d pick up a tape sometimes and it would need to be rewound and I’d think, ‘Oh, Jon’s been in.’ And even if I didn’t see you it would make me feel better just to know that you were listening. And I, I need that because— I know it’s ridiculous because it’s what I’m _doing,_ but I just can’t stand to be here feeling like I’m talking to _nothing._ Like I’m _(choked)_ alone. Because you can’t— _(He gasps)_ You can’t _hear_ me and I really— _(Another gasp, then, wetly)_ I really need to talk to you. 

[HE COMPLETELY DISSOLVES INTO TEARS.] 

  
**MARTIN**

_(Through tears)_ No, no, come on, come on.  
  


[FABRIC RUSTLES, A CREAKING SOUND LIKE PLASTIC BEING SQUEEZED.]

**MARTIN**

Don’t _break_ it, Martin, come on.  
  
[SNIFFLING, SEVERAL DEEP BREATHS, A SIGH.] 

  
**MARTIN**

So, ha, so, Jon, if you haven’t figured it out yet...  
  
[MORE SNIFFLING.] 

  
**MARTIN**

I am. _Not,_ actually. Doing all that well. 

[A HICCUP-Y SOUND, ANOTHER DEEP BREATH.] 

I, I’m trying, but— It’s been what, a month? I don’t know exactly, time feels weird now. I mean it’s back to normal, don’t worry, but it _feels_ weird. Like I can’t hold onto it anymore, or something. I literally, I forgot to buy a clock for my flat because I was like ‘why would I need that, we’re trapped in an endless nightmare.’ But I’m not, anymore. Well, okay, I kind of am, sometimes, but only in the over-dramatic metaphorical sense. I miss you, Jon. I didn’t— I think if I knew, when we were coming up with the plan, if I had known how much I would miss you, I would have said no. Is that selfish? Probably. _(He laughs)_ Okay, definitely. Well, _(half-joking)_ well, sorry I love you more than the whole rest of the world. Not much I can do about that.  
  
But yeah, it’s been a month...only a month? Since everything. So I guess it’s normal to feel— not-normal. Yet. And I know it isn’t just me, have I told you? Everyone is sort of— Like, right after you— Right after, the landscape went back to normal, shops and houses and everything all there, bloody fucking Panopticon gone— But the people, the people were wandering around like a bomb had gone off. And I mean, everyone, from all the domains. Not that I recognized anyone. And they didn’t have any, any marks, that I could see? But their eyes— They didn’t forget, Jon. Not one of them. But there’s no, um, there’s no physical evidence either. It’s just, everything was wrong and now it’s not. But there’s no way to _prove_ it, there’s not— So, so things are calming down, basically? Because there’s nothing anyone can _do,_ I guess, except try to move on. The, the health authorities or whoever’s in charge of this sort of thing are calling it a “shared psychic disturbance.” A big bad dream, basically. I mean, I’ve been checking the message boards? And the general, um, Internet, and a lot of people don’t _believe_ it, but everyone in a position of power, anyone who could actually _change_ something—

They’re hushing it up. They just want things to go back to normal. After, god, after everything we did, everything you _showed_ them, they’d rather just forget. Keep pretending the monsters aren’t real until they’re already eating you alive. I mean, was it even _worth_ it? For us to— For you to— No. No, of course it was. It must have been, I can’t— 

[HE TAKES A DEEP BREATH.]

**MARTIN**

Here’s something I wanted to tell you. Something good. I had a really bad night last night, actually, and when I went to sleep I kind of flopped down on my bed without, without brushing my teeth or changing my clothes or anything. Just passed out crying on top of the duvet. And I didn’t shut the drapes either, and when I woke up the light was just pouring in through the window. And the sky was this really full shade of blue I like. And _(he laughs)_ I know this is a sappy poet thing to say, but— The world is still so beautiful sometimes, Jon. Even after everything. 

[A SHORT PAUSE.] 

**MARTIN**

I wish you could see it. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Title is from Monument by Utopia because it came on while I was thinking of this and who am I to deny my second favorite band of all time anything. Also, the black roses are just an inside joke between Jon and Georgie from when they were dating (that I made up but didn't actually think of like, a backstory for), not a reference to anything. At least not on purpose.


End file.
